Dazed at Dusk
by ichorskin
Summary: In the midst of a battle may seem to be where people seem to be at their toughest, but don't be fooled, they're also at their most vulnerable.
1. Chapter 1

The heat of battle was never easy on the mind or the body. For countless days and countless nights, the skirmish had waged on. Engaging and retreating, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. It seemed never-ending. There comes a time when even the most renowned warriors need to take a break.

The day grew balmy and dense in the forest, as the night descended upon the battlegrounds. Another day of relentless fighting, seeming to lead Yurnero no closer to the end of the quarrel. Separated from his party, dragging his injured body alone through the dusk, moving towards a clearing nearer friendly grounds than enemy lines, he thought to himself, how much longer will we be caught in this stalemate? Slumping down with his back to the fountain overflowing with arcanery, he knew it'd take him a while to recover from the unforgiving fighting of the days gone by. His only option would be to set up a temporary camp, and pray to the Maker of Masks that his night goes undisturbed, if only for a short while.

Time seemed to pass quickly as he dozed by the fountain, absorbing the magical energies cascading over himself, caressing and healing his beaten skin. The soothing feeling caused him to neglect one of the most important things in a war zone - his senses. Hearing rumours of celestial fountains scattered around the war zone, it wasn't an uncommon tactic for enemies and allies to scout out for wounded friends or foes around the fabled hotspots. A cat's whisker away from slumber, Yurnero's bliss was cut short by a slash across his shoulder, the animal hide on his back doing a fair job of taking the brunt of the hit, but not tough enough to endure it all, skin grazed in a clean, shallow cut.

His fighting instincts kicking back in, Yurnero scrambled for his blade, mind racing, wondering who- or what the hell had come his way. Expecting the worst case scenario, of an ambush outnumbering him, it was almost a pleasant surprise to see a sole dark figure shift around the surrounding trees. Not enough to take solace in just yet, he told himself. There could be reinforcements on the way any minute now. But right now, it was fight or flight, and having his restoration so rudely interrupted, he wasn't really in any state for the latter.

The sun had almost completely disappeared by the time he'd been snapped out of his daydream. The only light to guide his blade was from the stars itself, their brightness dulled by the canopy of trees above, and the little remaining magic pouring through the fountain. However, it was enough to vaguely illuminate the outline of his foe - well-built like himself, though taller, wielding a large cleaver, and donning a mask unrecognisable to the dazed Juggernaut. Without wasting any more time hesitating about his state to fight, Yurnero lunged out towards the Rogue Knight, his fighting instincts finally kicking in. The piercing sounds of metal-on-metal echoed around the clearing of trees, clashing again and again and again.


	2. Chapter 2

The shrill sounds of clattering weapons and battle-cries continued for what felt like aeons, both warriors fighting for their life. They danced around the fountain, dashing and weaving around each other, attempting to strike the killing blow. Stray splatters of blood littered the ground, as tiny battle wounds wept. Though neither fighter was able to best the other. Every time one plunged their blade in for the kill, the other would strike back with absolute timing, depriving his opponent from the glory of triumphing.

"You have quite some skills. I was wrong to underestimate you, even when you were in such poor shape." the knight huffed.

"It would have been cowardice to run. And I would have never lay down and let you kill me. I had no choice but to fight." panted Yurnero, chest heaving, the never-ending dispute beginning to exhaust even the most vigilant fighters.

"A fair way of thinking." Sven raised his sword and half-heartedly charged towards the tired samurai, signs of fatigue showing bright as day. Sweat poured from the mortals' backs as they desperately scrambled together once again to put an end to their personal quarrel. Unable to sink the killing blow, Sven's heavy, clumsy cleaver missed the Juggernaut's body, clattering to the ground, the momentum of the swing forcing his broad body forward with it, barrelling into Yurnero's torso, knocking him hard enough to topple him over, facing the same fate as Sven's sword – plummeting to the ground.

Neither of the combatants has the energy left to move as they lay on the ground, breathing heavily. The perfect chance to perform the finishing move, had Yurnero's right arm not been trapped, under the weight of the stationary knight splayed out next to him, unable to be moved, his sword knocked away out of reach.

Moments that felt like hours passed as the two lay on the ground. The silence finally broke. "I am... not usually one... to back down from a fight. But... neither of us seem in... particularly good condition to... carry on. You're... quite a respectable opponent, and... I have a proposition to make... if you'd be willing to... hear me out." Sven wheezed.

"Go on."

"We rest. We return to our respective sides... tomorrow at dawn. If we fight again... we'll be in better shape... hopefully. If we never meet again... so be it."

"You've got yourself a deal."

The men lay sprawled out on the ground for longer than either of them would've liked to have admitted. Eventually, after catching his breath, Sven lifted himself up and dragged himself towards his pack he'd discarded promptly into the surrounding flora upon coming across the lone Juggernaut. He drew a bedroll bound tightly by string from it, untying the cord and unravelling it, he lay it out on the ground by the fountain. Shortly after deciding that he'd rather not pass out on the ground, Yurnero followed suit. He collected his belongings from his own pack, laying in wait by the fountain where he left it, withdrawing his own rolled-up bedding and laid it out, preparing it for a night of rough sleeping.


	3. Chapter 3

The light pouring from the fountain had long run dry, its aura absorbing into the minor wounds in the midst of the skirmish. Neither of the swordsmen were able to sleep too well, a silence fell over the clearing in the forest. The adrenaline mixed with the clammy night got the better of the estranged duo, with after what seemed like an eternity of gazing to the skies, Sven pushed himself up, tugging the blue undershirt over his head, and carefully manoeuvring it around the horns of his helmet. This action certainly did not go unnoticed by his company. It also did not help that the only space for their bedrolls was next to one another.

The tension could've been cut with a knife. Yurnero couldn't tear his eyes from Sven's muscular chest. A sprinkling of bruises and grazes that were yet to heal dappled his upper body, Yurnero thought back to his time as a scholar on the Isle of Masks, dabbling in some healing magic. He learned how to concoct a healing salve using common forage and a touch of voodoo, he'd just have to grab some fresh water from his canteen, a handful or two of healthy, fresh-picked leaves from an ironwood tree, a little bit of an enchanted mango, grind them all up into a fine paste, take the mixture and rub it over the abrasions on Sven's chest, gently massaging it in with care, so not to hurt him further, and –

Before he was able to stop himself from fantasising further, Yurnero found himself already treading treacherous waters. He was smitten by the rogue knight laying by his side. Whether it was sprung from lust or love, in the spur of the moment, it didn't matter. He wanted Sven. And he wanted him badly. It's not that he hadn't encountered another man's bare body before, but rather the vulnerability that Sven was displaying – or even the respect, the trust, to sleep by a stranger. Who had just tried to end his life moments prior.

After going on a complete tangent, one-track minded due to his own flustering, the Juggernaut had failed to notice how pent up he was becoming, with uncontrollable, questionable thoughts whirling round his head regarding his company. Who was not as blissfully unaware as he was hoping.

"So…. You seem a little, er… _Troubled_."

The sudden sultry accent echoed through his lungs. Yurnero's heart skipped a beat.

"… Mm-hmm." He couldn't hide it. There were no exits to this sticky situation. He just had to sit and take it. Blessing the Faceless Ones countless times internally for the mask he donned, obscuring his bashful face from showing any further embarrassment, in fear of making the current situation even more awkward.

"I can help with that."

A shiver ran down his spine. Anticipating the most sleepless, awkward night of his life, the Gods had mercifully looked upon him for the second time that day./p

"Yeah, yeah, you're welcome to try."

"I'm always up for a challenge." The presence of a smirk could be unmistakably detected in the knight's voice, and without room for second thoughts, Sven abruptly shifted himself onto his side, reaching over and unbuckling Yurnero's belt, and untying his hakama, his hand diving straight in. He began to lightly circle his fingertips around the head of Yurnero's cock, with that alone being enough to make him begin to sweat. The teasing more than doing the trick, Sven decided to be generous today, moving his grip further down and massaging up and down his shaft, red-hot and pulsing with the beat of his heart. Such an inexperienced, innocent reaction takes Sven aback, he would never have guessed such a furious fighter would ever have been this timid, even at his most vulnerable, with his cock in another man's grasp.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself already. Do you want to take it further?"

The swordsman, already nearing climax from such a simple gesture, couldn't refuse the offer. "Yes.. Please." he panted. Without further ado, Sven slipped off Yurnero's hakama the rest of the way before removing his own trousers. Gesturing for Yurnero to kneel in front of him on the bedroll, Sven knelt closely behind Yurnero, his dominant hand reaching around his side, steadily working away, and other arm reaching around and caressing the Juggernaut's chest, pulling him in closer. Getting caught up in the heat of the moment, Sven pressed his own erection up against Yurnero's ass, ever so slightly rotating his hips to tease him, quickening the convulsions of his hand.

Unable to take any more of the tension, Yurnero blew his load over the bedspread in front of him, embarrassed at having such a low threshold, but the fervent feeling of tension relief at another man's hand was enough for him not to care. Now it was Sven's turn. Allowing Juggernaut to catch his breath and somewhat contain himself again, Sven began sifting through his pack, looking for a small emergency vial of lube, popping the cork off the top, and applying some on his own shaft, and the rest onto Yurnero's entrance. The sudden cold liquid on such a sensitive area made Sven shiver, but not as much as Yurnero to the icy touch in a place never touched before.

Continuing to hold his temporary partner close, Sven gently urged him over onto his hands and knees, attempting to slide in. Moving his hands from caressing the Juggernaut's sculpted chest, down his sides and to his hips, tight from nervousness and inexperience, the grasp on Sven's cock made him have to bite his own lip to stop him from moaning too loud. Slowly backing out, then in, then out, and in, pushing a little further every time. He was taking it easy now for the sake of his company, but Lord knows Sven wanted to pound Yurnero's virgin ass six ways from Sunday.

"How are you holding out so far?" He questioned. Flustered and lusting was the answer.

"Doing.. Just.. Fine." Yurnero's own inexperience and repression from similar acts were doing him favours, his dick already standing up straight and tender again. Sven decided to pick up the pace, thrusting a lot more rhythmically, about three-quarters of the way in. His own tensions rising, he reached his left hand down to tease the tip of Yurnero's cock, rubbing his thumb over the top while a drip or two of pre-cum let loose. Smiling to himself at Yurnero's chastity under his mask, the timid Juggernaut seemed to get more and more relaxed in the act, and Sven was able to go balls deep.

"So do you mind if we.. pick up the pace?" he grunted between the thrusts, unbeknown even to himself whether he'd be able to last much longer. Yurnero moaned a confirmation and Sven began to rock his hips back and forth with a lot more power. Unable to deal with the dirty sensation, Yurnero clawed at the bedroll, gasping and moaning into his mask. Sven, becoming more and more desperate to not pop, bit his lip and grabbed a fistful of ass to try and relieve some of the yearning, but to no avail. The lower half arched his back and gasped as he came profusely on the bedroll again, letting out an exasperated sigh as the white liquid poured out. Unable to see it happen, Sven knew exactly what happened, and it was just enough for him to meet the edge of climax. He pulled out abruptly, lifting the exhausted Yurnero up from all fours, laying his sweat-glistened partner down gently onto his back, and letting loose over his heavily breathing torso, heaving up and down.

"What a mess we've made" he sighs, finally breaking the silence a few minutes after slumping down next to his temporary lover, both taking their time to catch their breath and calm down. "We ought to clean ourselves up. There's a river not too far from here. I passed it on my way over."

Yurnero's voice was still shaky from such an exciting night. "Yes. I know the one."

"You're not a man of many words, are you?" chuckled the rogue knight. Yurnero's rigid way of speaking was somewhat growing on him. Sharp, short, and to the point.

"No. I am not."

"That's fair." he grinned to himself under his mask. "Sometimes less is more." Sven attempted to catch his breath for a few more seconds before getting up, extending a hand down towards Yurnero.

"If we want to get any rest before morning, we should get washed up quick."

Grasping heartily onto his hand, Sven pulled him up, and they made their way towards the direction of the river. Yurnero didn't let go.


	4. Chapter 4

The moonlight glistened over the still river, not a soul to be seen around. Without hesitation, Sven set foot into the river, the coldness granting him a myriad of goosebumps - a more jarring feeling this time around, rather than the sexually-charged shivers he experienced earlier. Yurnero was led in close behind, the water rippling around their legs as they got deeper into the soft-flowing river.

Almost knee-deep by the bank, Sven dropped Yurnero's hand. Taken aback by the sudden loss at first, he watched the knight reach up and tug at his helmet, and lifting it towards the sky. The lack of mask revealed cropped, neat brown hair, glistened with beads of sweat in the moonlight. He turned to the side, his profile illuminated by the stars for the first time, highlighting a brilliant chiselled jaw, stern lips, and an imperfect nose with a small bump, as if previously broken, not healed quite right from countless past frays, it's flawed shape making Yurnero just admire him more.

Captivated by the beautiful man under the mask, Yurnero said nothing. In an attempt to break the silence, Sven cleared his throat abruptly. He raised his arms up, cupping the Juggernaut's mask by the horns. "Shall I?" Yurnero nodded quietly, still at a loss for words. With a soft tug, the mask was off, exposing his face to someone else for the first time in years. He was notably younger-looking, less battle-scarred than Sven. Sven's face was weathered by many a battle, reflected in his stern expression, whereas Yurnero was a lot more bright eyed, willing to face whatever quarrels the world threw at him in the name of his people and his honour. His auburn hair was notably longer, most likely due to refusing to remove the mask around anyone else, Yurnero only had his reflection in still waters and his own sword to deal with hairstyles since his exile. This left it cut raggedly, with most of it being able to be swept back into a small, uneven ponytail.

Sven lay the two masks down in the grass on the bank of the river, he then edged his hand back into it's rightful place, with Yurnero's. Though this time, the blademaster didn't have the helmet to hide his blushing. Sven waded deeper into the centre of the river, the icy water covering half of his torso was pleasantly chilling given the clammy air and sticky feeling of waxing sweat. Being brought up by the sea, cold water was not unknown to Sven, Yurnero, on the other hand, was trying to subdue his shivering. Smirking at his company's mild discomfort, Sven brought his free hand around the back of Yurnero's bare shoulders, bringing him in tight. The jitters began to subside. Yurnero quietly rose his free hand around to grip the knight's sculpted torso.

They stood together in silence for what seemed like hours, enjoying the calm, quiet flow of the river against their bodies, for just a few minutes. Somewhat reluctant to break the tranquillity, Sven eventually removed his hand from the Juggernaut's shoulders and guided it upwards to cup his jaw, ushering Yurnero's head to face a little more upwards with no reluctance. Without a word, both of the swordsmen closed their eyes and leaned in towards one another, pressing their lips together softly. One sweet, long-awaited kiss was shared between the two of them. All signs of lust and voraciousness had subsided, only adoration remaining. Neither of them were eager to end the kiss, but they couldn't stand here all withdrawing, after what felt like seconds and he wished was aeons, Sven reached down to the water, cupping a handful and raising it to Yurnero's shoulder, gently letting the liquid cascade down his torso and back. His hand followed the water down, slowly and gently, running over the Juggernaut's sculpted pecs, washing off the residue of activities past.

He repeated the process a few more times, before switching to wash the other side, uttering no words. Nothing needed to be said. The tranquillity of the moment was ample, the light dripping of water into the flowing river and the calm breathing of the two men put them both at ease. It was hard for either of them to come to terms with the fact that they were on opposite sides of an ongoing war. At this moment, the calamity was gone. And it was just them against the world.


	5. Chapter 5

Moments that felt like hours passed as the two swordsmen bathed each other. They washed each other with the utmost care and precision, the softest touch leaving both of them finding it difficult to believe that those hands could, and have, killed. Once they were freshened up, it was time to leave the river and return to dry land. With nothing to dry off with, it was just a waiting game in the moonlight. They took a seat on some rocks by the river bank, Yurnero edging ever so much closer into Sven, partially for warmth, partially to enjoy his company just that tiny bit more. The silence was sweet and comfortable, the tranquil view over the river and forest before them made it hard to believe the carnage that would be happening in the area in a few hours time, once the ceasefire had run its course.

Without a word, Sven edged his hand atop Yurnero's, attempting to savour the moment for as long as he could. Not wanting to seem too attached, Sven's forward action allowed Yurnero to make a move of his own, tilting his head ever so slightly, to rest on Sven's chest. He could hear his heartbeat. Slow and steady. No signs of apprehension. The two men revelled in their company for what seemed like hours, syncing their breathing, absorbing themselves in the moment. Eventually beginning to doze off, Yurnero was gently shaken back to reality.

"I'm afraid the night is no longer young. We need to get some rest. There's a big day ahead of us tomorrow."

Yurnero groaned and nuzzled in deeper into Sven's chest. Not now. He'd just gotten comfortable! His eyelids were heavy and his limbs felt like they had bricks tied to them. Just five more minutes.

After failing to garner much of a response from his company, Sven sighed and decided that in a battle between him and a sleepy samurai, his strength would overcome. Pushing himself upright, Yurnero left slumped on the rock he was perched on, grumbling incoherently, Sven drew his arms around his back and in the crease of the Juggernaut's knees, and lifted him up. The sudden shift in height took Yurnero aback, suddenly wide awake once more. It felt strange to be so far up – he was used to being a little on the short side, compared to Sven, who towered over him by almost a foot. However, he wasn't going to let that stop him from enjoying the feeling of being so close to someone else. To feel the warmth of his chest, the rhythmical bumping of his heart.

In almost no time at all, the two swordsmen found themselves back at the clearing where their bedrolls lay by the drained fountain. Sven carefully lay the Juggernaut down on his own bedroll, before dragging his own over, parallel to Yurnero's. A blanket was draped over the two men, the cold night air was finally reaching it's peak. Sven took this opportunity to justify his actions, sliding an arm underneath Yurnero's neck and around the back of his shoulders, and the other around his waist. Yurnero cuddled in close, wrapping his free hand around Sven's hips and placing his palm against Sven's chest. Both rather flustered to have found themselves in this position, it didn't take long for it to warm up. The chilled touch of night felt so far away, despite the current circumstances. Sven lent down and buried his nose in Yurnero's hair, still a tad damp from washing up earlier. After breathing in his scent for a few moments, he lightly kissed the top of his head.

"Goodnight, Yurnero."

A very muffled "Goodnight" could be heard from Sven's chest, the last thing either of them remembered before sunlight began to pour into the sky, draining away the inky black of night.

Sven was the first to wake – he was never a particularly good sleeper. He tended to have too much on his mind to get to rest at a reasonable pace. By the looks of the sky, dawn had broken no more than half an hour ago. He knew his teammates needed him, and Yurnero's needed him too. It was going to be a tough day for them both. Sven nudged Yurnero awake softly for a second time, he was met with a less cranky response. Yawning and tensing his muscles, Yurnero came to life, and slowly but surely all of the events of the previous evening came flooding back. He smiled, pressing his forehead onto Sven's chest and pulling his body in closer. For the first time, Sven managed to crack. A tiny smirk edged across his face, destroying his usual stoic facade. He burrowed his face into Yurnero's hair again, this time in an attempt to hide his atypical emotion.

Half an hour passed, as Sven watched the sky brighten more every minute. He didn't want to leave, but he knew he had to. Drawing Yurnero in tightly for the last time, the two men then separated and sat up, the crippling knowledge of their current situation suddenly flooding back. They were star-crossed lovers. Two soldiers from opposing sides. No one could know of what had happened that night. They needed not utter a word, for it was clear that they both had the realisation simultaneously – the warm smiles disappeared from their faces. Shoulders hunched and cold.

The pair began to pack up their equipment, rolling up bedrolls and folding blankets, and putting on their armour in preparation for another day of fighting.

"So I suppose this will be goodbye." muttered Yurnero, stuffing his bedroll into his bag.

"For now, at least. We should return from whence we came. Our allies are waiting".

"Maybe our paths will cross once again, Sven."

"I do not doubt they will. We're bound to meet again until this conflict is over."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it. For now, I wish you goodbye."

The two swordsmen stood face-to-face, finding it difficult to be the first to turn away. Sven lent down ever so slightly, taking Yurnero's jaw in his hand, pulling him into a long kiss, before reluctantly drawing away. They then both put on their masks – returning to the faceless, ruthless warriors they needed to be, bowing to one another before finally turning their backs, and pacing off into the morning, without a final word.


End file.
